Meet Marcella
by ZannahBanana
Summary: Tony's always had somewhat loose morals, but he never imagined that they would have gotten him here. Will a new person in Tony's life change his feelings about committment and push him to accept his feelings for a certain Israeli agent? Minor T.
1. Chapter 1: Obituaries

One: Obituaries

Tony DiNozzo exited the elevator, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder, and walked to his desk, only to find Special Agent McGee laughing at his computer screen.

"What's so funny, McGiggle?" Tony asked, flinging his backpack down and digging in his drawer for deodorant. It was seven a.m. on a Monday morning, and, as usual, Tony had stumbled out of his apartment, still slightly hung over from Saturday night, without brushing his teeth, applying deodorant, or even combing his hair. And, as usual, his first task that Monday morning was to make himself look-and feel, for that matter-somewhat professional.

"Oh, this obituary," McGee replied, chuckling a little. "You've got to read this, Tony, I'll send you a link."

"You do not think it is wrong to laugh at someone's obituary?" Agent Ziva David asked from her desk, just across from Tony's.

McGee looked up at her, took in her raised eyebrows and stern look, and said, "Well…sort of. I mean, I'm not laughing because he's dead…it's…Tony, help me!"

"No, no, I, too, want to hear what could possibly be so funny about a poor dead man's obituary, McGee," said Tony, smirking at him.

McGee gazed flatly at him, then started clicking on his mouse and typing on his keyboard. "Well, I was looking up the Chevy of the Gods-"

"The _Chevy of the Gods_?" Tony said. "Is that something in your online game, McElfLord?

"No, Tony," McGee said irritably, "it's a nickname for the new Chevy truck. It supposedly has incredible gas mileage and a pretty sweet stereo system, among other things. Anyway, I was looking that up, and I came across the obituary for a man from Virginia whose family wrote that he had "gone to wash God's Chevy"."

"'_Gone to wash God's Chevy_?'" Tony said again, grinning. "Let me guess, was he wearing a cowboy hat in his picture?"

McGee nodded, and, smiling, said, "On a tractor."

"Link me!" Tony said, swiping his deodorant quickly under his arms and throwing it back into the drawer, buttoning his shirt. His Monday morning had just gotten much, much better.

"I still think that it is sick to laugh at a man's obituary," Ziva said, typing away on her keyboard.

"Oh, lighten up, David," Tony said, opening the e-mail from McGee. "I want people to laugh at my obituary. I've written my own, you want to hear the first sentence?"

"Not really," Ziva said.

"It says," Tony said, ignoring her, "'Anthony DiNozzo, Jr., passed to the other side to give the angels a little taste of his own personal heaven.'"

Ziva looked at him for a moment, then said, "That is disgusting, Tony."

"Are you kidding me?" Tony said, clicking on the link. "It's brilliant. People will remember what a funny, sexy guy I was."

Ziva rolled her eyes, then went back to her work.

Tony, still grinning away, was scanning the man's obituary when another name caught his eye. Forgetting about the obituary he had been reading, his eyes moved up to the familiar name.

_Rosemary Burmont._

"Rosemary Burmont!" Tony said loudly. "She's dead?"

"Yeah, I saw that," said McGee. "Did you know her?"

But Tony was already reading the obituary.

_Rosemary Marcie Burmont, age 40, passed away last Thursday evening due to injuries she sustained in a car accident hours before. _

Tony then lightly skimmed over the rest of the obituary, not really paying attention until one of the last sentences caught his eye.

_Survivors include her mother, Rose Burmont, a brother, and a daughter, Marcella Burmont of South Valley High School. _

"Tony. Tony!"

"What?" Tony looked up to see Ziva glaring at him.

"McGee asked you if you knew Rosemary Burmont," Ziva said, looking annoyed.

"Yeah, I heard that," Tony said, glaring right back at her. Turning to McGee, he said, "Yes, Timmy. I did, in fact, know Rosemary Burmont. We had some college classes together."

"She's pretty," McGee said, pulling her obituary up on his screen. "You date her?"

Tony grinned. "Depends on what you mean by 'date.'"

Ziva, giving Tony a knowing look, said, "So, you slept with her, but you were not exclusively in a relationship with her, is that what you mean?"

"Bulls-eye," Tony said. "But we didn't even do it because we were that attracted to each other. We were drunk."

"Wow, a man-horse and a drunkard. I am realizing that you are quite the catch, Tony."

McGee looked at Ziva. "…Man-horse?"

Ziva looked back and forth between Tony and McGee. "Yes, a man-horse. You know, a promiscuous man. Is that not what it is called?" She cocked her head to the side.

"Man-ho, Ziva," Tony said. "Not horse. _Ho_."

"Why would a promiscuous man be insulted with the name of a gardening tool?" Ziva asked.

"Not _hoe_!" Tony said. "Ho. H-O. It's short for…never mind, it isn't important."

"So you slept with Rosemary?" McGee asked, putting Tony back on topic.

"Yep," Tony said. "We were both at a bar just a few blocks off campus-it was a fun little dive, called Lucille's or Loretta's or something. Anyway, we'd seen each other before, and she'd had a little too much schnapps, and of course, I'd been there for hours by the time she got there, I was _loaded_, and we snuck back to the dorms and-"

"-lived happily ever after, right, DiNozzo?" Gibbs interrupted, coming around the corner and heading to his desk. When he saw a wide-eyed Tony staring at him, he repeated, "Right?"

"Right, boss," Tony said. "Happily ever after!"

"Well, gear up," Gibbs said, taking his gun out of his top drawer. "Dead Marine in the dumpster behind McDonald's, slashed wrists and ankles."

The three agents started gathering up their stuff, and Ziva and McGee were soon following Gibbs to the elevator. Only Tony remained at the desk, trying to frantically to make his hair look like he hadn't spent the weekend at a wild bar.

"Coming, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said from the elevator door, not even looking back.

"On your six, boss," Tony said, running over to stand behind Gibbs. The four of them stood, idly chatting, waiting for the elevator to come up.

When the doors opened, the team was greeted by the sight of Jerry, a security guard for the building, holding the arm of a disheveled-looking teenager, her eyes whipping around frantically. The two stepped out of the elevator, and the team started to step in.

Just as Tony was walking in, the security guard yelled, "Wait!"

Tony turned, smiling tightly. "What can I do for you?"

"Agent DiNozzo, I'm sorry to bother you, but this girl's been downstairs for an hour looking for you."

Barely glancing at the girl, DiNozzo asked the guard, "Well, who is she?"

"Says her name's Marcella Burmont. She says she's your daughter."

**If this were actually an NCIS episode, this is where the camera would freeze on Tony's face and the shot would go black-and-white! Whoo! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and please R and R! Thank youuu!**


	2. Chapter 2: Marcella Louise Burmont

Two: Marcella Louise Burmont

_Click. Click. Click._

Tony couldn't get his mind off of Marcella as he snapped pictures of Marine Corporal James Worthington's dead body. Even though he was sure that Marcella wasn't his, he couldn't stop thinking about her or Rosemary.

She would have told me, Tony kept telling himself. She would've told me.

_Snap_.

"Look at this, Jethro," Ducky said in his thick accent. Touching the wrist of the corporal, he said, "These rope burns indicate that his hands were bound before he died. In fact, these slashes appear to have been made post-mortem."

"He didn't bleed out?" asked Gibbs, eyebrows folded quizzically.

"Oh, yes, the poor man did bleed out, as is indicated by the wetness of the trash bags beneath him and the translucence of the skin, but look at these cuts."

Gibbs blinked. "They're red, Duck."

"Precisely, Jethro. If they had been made to kill this poor man, they would be brown or even black, clotted long ago, since he was killed approximately twelve hours ago. But though his state of decomposition does suggest that this was when he was killed, the wetness of the blood that is clotted indicates that the wrists were slashed much less than that, maybe as little as six or seven hours ago."

"The cuts aren't the cause of death," Gibbs said.

"Exactly. I won't be able to determine the cause of death, though, until we get back to autopsy."

She would have told me, Tony thought for the millionth time. She would have told me.

As Jimmy Palmer went to get the gurney and McGee began bagging bloody pieces of trash from the dumpster, Tony began loading NCIS equipment back into the van.

Ziva walked over to the van, depositing some bags of evidence in a large bin in the back. She looked over at Tony, whose face had not gained back any color.

"So you are a father," she said, digging through the bin.

"She's not my daughter, Ziva," he said. "She just thinks she is."

"And what makes you so sure?" Ziva asked.

Tony looked at her. "I just know, okay? Rosemary Burmont was not the type of girl to have a baby and never tell the father."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Tony said. "I knew her."

"You said you slept with her."

"Yes, but I also knew her."

"You did not say that. You said that you had classes together in college. You did not say that you were friends."

Tony glared at Ziva. "Would you stop?" he said. "Marcella is not my daughter."

"The truth is surprising."

"What makes you so sure that she's my daughter, Ziva?" he asked. "Please, tell me, Ziva the All-Seeing."

Ziva looked back at Ducky and Palmer, who were lowering the corporal's body onto the gurney. She looked back at Tony.

"She had your eyes," she said.

And with that, she turned and walked to the front of the van, climbing into the driver's seat.

Normally, Tony would be running up there, flinging open the door, and all but dragging her out of the seat to prevent her from driving. But instead, he just let it go, still unnerved about her saying that Marcella had his eyes.

Seeing Ducky and Palmer struggling to lift the gurney into their van-Ducky's arthritis had been acting up lately-Tony strode over, shooed Ducky away, and helped Palmer lift the body into the van. Slamming the doors shut, he started to head back over to Team Gibbs' van.

"Tony," Ducky said from behind him.

Tony turned around. "What's up, Duck?"

Ducky lowered his voice. "I heard that a young girl came into the office today, claiming to be your daughter."

Tony looked around, eyes wide, annoyed. "Where did you hear that?"

"Oh, you know how news travels in the office," said Ducky. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that Abby said she would be happy to run a paternity test on you two to see if the girl is right."

"Abby knows, too?" Tony said.

"Gossip travels at the speed of light, Tony," Ducky says.

"Mmm. Well, I'll talk to Abby when we get back," said Tony. He smiled tightly at Ducky, turning back around to get in the van.

"See you back at the naval yard, Daddy!" Palmer yelled from behind him.

Tony stiffened. This was typical Palmer-he didn't know when his jokes were not going to be received well. Whipping around, teeth gritted, Tony yelled, "Palmer, take your scalpel and shove it up your-!"

_Whack! _Gibbs's palm made contact with the back of Tony's head, and Tony grimaced, shutting his mouth. He turned around to see Gibbs with his impatient look on his face.

"Let's go, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, never shifting his gaze. Turning around, he, too, headed back toward the van.

"On your six, boss," said Tony. He turned around one more time to give Palmer a death stare, then followed Gibbs back to the NCIS van.

Once on the road, everyone on the team was silent. Ziva was texting someone, probably Ray, Gibbs was driving, McGee was in the back with his head in the little window, and Tony was glaring straight ahead. He couldn't wait to get back to the office and tell Jerry to never let Marcella within three hundred yards of the NCIS building again.

At least no one was talking about her in the van.

McGee promptly ruined that.

"So do you think that Marcella could be your daughter, Tony?" he asked through the window.

"MCGEE!" Tony shouted as soon as the last word had left McGee's mouth.

"I'm sorry!" McGee said. "Just a natural question to ask…"

"She. Is. Not. My. Daughter," Tony said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to find her phone number and set her straight as soon as we get back to the office."

But it turned out that Tony didn't have to hunt down Marcella's phone number. When he got back to the office, he was greeted by Jerry.

"The girl's in the conference room," he told Tony as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. "She'd like to speak with you."

"Jerry!" Tony hissed. Pulling him off to the side, he said through gritted teeth, "Why didn't you throw her out?"

"Because she's a little girl, Tony," said Jerry. "She really thinks you're her daddy. You need to talk to her."

"Jerry, she's just an attention-seeking teenager!" Tony protested.

"Just go talk to her, DiNozzo. This is your problem, not mine." Jerry walked past him, into the elevator, and was promptly gone.

Tony glared at the closed elevator doors, then threw his backpack behind his desk, walking toward the conference room, muttering, "I'm going to make it your problem…"

Flinging open the conference room door, Tony bellowed irritably, "Hello. My name is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Let's get this over with."

Tony threw a look in Marcella's direction and stopped walking.

She was pretty. Gorgeous, in fact. She had long dark hair that went down her back, almost the color that Tony had remembered Rosemary having. She had a light skin tone, but didn't look ghostly, and a small, cute, sculpted nose. Her lips were soft and good sized, but it was her eyes that got Tony. Sure enough, she had big, beautiful, unmistakable DiNozzo eyes.

Tony was staring at his own eyes.

Finally, Marcella looked up at him. She no longer had the scared, frantic expression on her face. She looked surprisingly calm, focused.

"Okay. Let's get it over with."

Tony, still looking at Marcella, sat down in the chair across from her.

"My name is Marcella Burmont," she said. "My mother was Rosemary Burmont, who I believe you had a brief sexual encounter with. Right?"

Tony looked at her, and, numbly, said, "Right."

"Well," she said, "my mother is dead. She was killed in a car accident almost a week ago. Anyway, my mom never got married, and she had at least three sexual partners in her lifetime, all three of them being around the time of her finding out she was pregnant with me. One of them was you."

"And how do you know all this?" Tony said, smiling tightly.

"She told me before she died," Marcella said.

"I thought she died in a car accident," Tony said.

"She died from her injuries. Anyway, before she died, she wrote down three names and said that if I wanted to find my dad, he was on the list. And since I don't want to live with my nutty grandmother for two more years, I'm finding my dad."

Tony just looked at her, thinking, Could she really be mine?

He also noticed for the first time that Marcella had a Manila folder grasped in her fingers. Since it wasn't label, he asked, "What's that?"

Marcella put the folder on the table, opening it. Taking out three sheets of paper, she pushed one across the table to Tony.

"These are the results of the paternity tests I took with the two other guys. The one I gave you is my DNA information.

Tony skimmed over the paper, the only thing he understood being the name at the top, _Marcella Louise Burmont. _He looked back up at Marcella. "So I guess the tests were all negative?"

Marcella pushed the other papers across the table.

_Nathan J. Fryer. Negative._

_Patrick L. Johnson. Negative._

Tony kept staring at the words. One word, on two sheets of paper. 'Negative'.

Tony was the only man left.

He had to be the father.

Right?

**Cliffy. So, will Abby give the paternity test? Is Marcella Tony's daughter? What will Ziva think? If you wanna know, don't drop this story!**

**Please read and REVIEW. Nothing makes me happier than reviews. NOTHING.**

**Thank youuu!**


	3. Chapter 3: It's a Girl

Three: It's a Girl

"Abby." Tony walked into Abby Sciuto's lab, ready for his paternity test. Marcella trailed behind him. "Abby!"

Abby finally heard Tony over his blaring music, and whipped around. "Tony!" she shouted. She immediately left her computer and ran to hug him, flinging her arms around his neck. "I am so excited!"

"I bet," Tony said tightly. "Abby, this is Marcella. Marcella, this is Abby Sciuto, our forensic scientist."

"Hi, Marcella," Abby said, ripping one of her rubber gloves off and shaking Marcella's hand. "It's so nice to meet you! You know, you are so lucky if Tony's your dad. He's awesome. And funny! Oh, he is so fun, there was this one time, it was Christmas, and he rigged some of the agents' desks, and they exploded with confetti and lights and-"

"Abby," Tony interrupted, "let's just take the test."

"Oh! Right, sorry." Abby took off her other glove, threw them both away, and pulled on a fresh pair. "Okey-dokey! Tony, you sit on this stool, and Marcella, you sit on this stool."

"Is it necessary for me to be tested again?" Marcella asked. "I mean, I have my DNA file upstairs."

"I just want to be super sure," Abby said, cleaning a small patch on Marcella's arm with alcohol. Picking up a syringe from the table, she said, "Okay, just a pinch!"

She jabbed the needle into Marcella's arm, pulling the stopper of the syringe up. Red blood began filling the tube, and Marcella gritted her teeth, not looking at the needle.

"I hate needles," she said.

"Yeah, they kind of stink. Hey, wait a minute, Tony, you also hate-?"

"Abby!"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" she said. Filling up the tube just a little bit more, Abby finally pulled the needle out of Marcella's arm. "Okay, Marcella, you're good to go!"

"Thanks," Marcella said weakly. Noticing how pale she looked, Abby jumped.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Abby walked over to her computer table and picked up one of the three thirty-two ounce Caf-Pows sitting there. Walking back to Marcella, she handed it to her.

"You will feel so much better after drinking this!" she said. As Marcella walked out, Caf-Pow in hand, Abby said to DiNozzo, "I asked Gibbs to bring me extras today for the tests."

"Great. Can we do this?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Abby said. She began peeling off her gloves.

"You don't need fresh gloves, Abby!" Tony said.

Abby whirled around. "You can never be too careful, Tony," she said. Pulling on a fresh pair, she said, "You should learn that."

"Hey!" Tony said, as Abby grabbed the second syringe from the table. "We were careful! I'm always careful."

Abby looked at him. Then, giving him a questioning look, she snapped one of the rubber fingers of her glove.

"What?" Tony said. Abby snapped the rubber again and, realizing what she meant, Tony said, "Oh! I don't remember, Abs, it was sixteen years ago."

"You know what they say, Tony," Abby said, checking the syringe one last time. "'No glove, no love.'"

"What…JUST TAKE MY BLOOD!" Tony shouted.

"Okay, okay!" Abby wailed. "I'm sorry!" She then pushed the needle into Tony's arm, and he sucked in a breath.

"Almost done," Abby said.

Tony looked at the tube. There was next to no blood in it.

After five more agonizing seconds, Abby finally pulled the needle out of Tony's arm. After putting a little round Band-Aid with a skull and crossbones on it over the puncture, Abby picked up the syringes, walked around her computer, and laid them down on the counter over there. Tony stood up.

"When will you have the results, Abby?"

"Well, when done in a hospital, paternity test results can take weeks to come back. But I, however, will have them for you in just a few hours. I just have to run the blood on the trash that McGee gave me, I'm already finished with Corporal Worthington's clothes."

"Did you find anything?"

"His blood was filled with a deadly toxin that one would normally find in gasoline. I ran the other contents of his blood, and it looks like…"

Tony tuned Abby out. All he could hear was a mantra in his head: _I could be a father. I could be a father. I could be a father._

"Sounds good, Abs," Tony said, not even knowing what the last thing she said was.

"Um…okay, Tony!" Abby called as Tony left the lab. "I'll let you know when I have the results!"

"I'll be waiting with bated breath," Tony muttered sarcastically as he got into the elevator.

Two hours later, after filling out some paperwork, Tony and McGee stood in front of the big screen, looking over Corporal Worthington's driver's license.

"Marine Corporal James Worthington," Tony said, holding the remote in his hand. "Age thirty-five. Deployed to Afghanistan a year ago, just got back to town. Last seen yesterday evening by his wife, Jackie. Said he was going out for some food and was apparently killed and dumped in a Dumpster."

"Did he have any enemies?" McGee asked.

"I have just contacted his wife," said Ziva, getting up from her desk and walking to stand next to Tony. "She is on her way here. Gibbs and I will talk to her when she arrives."

"Alright," said McGee. "Do we know of any officers who may have been associated with him? In his barracks or division? I know Mrs. Worthington will be here soon, but if we know anyone we can get a jumpstart on the search and-"

McGee was interrupted by the sound of Tony's phone ringing. Handing Ziva the remote, he walked over and said, "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

"TONY!" Abby screamed, so loudly that Ziva and McGee looked over. "I have the results of the paternity test, you have to get down here right now!"

"Okay, okay!" Tony said. "Give me a minute to get Marcella from the conference room."

"Okay, HURRY!" Abby said.

Tony put down the phone and looked up, not surprised to see Ziva and McGee still staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Well," he said, "I'm going to get the results of the paternity test," he said coolly, walking past them.

"Can we…um…can we…?" McGee said.

"Yes, you can come, McStammer!" Tony snapped. Ziva and McGee exchanged a look, then followed Tony, parting ways near the conference room. Ziva and McGee headed down to Abby's lab, and Tony entered Marcella's conference room.

"Abs has the results of the test downstairs," he said as Marcella looked up from her cell phone.

"Okay," she said, practically jumping up. She walked calmly but with purpose past Tony, leading him down to the lab.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Tony could hear excited chatter from the lab, and he knew the results. Still, his heart went to his feet when he walked in the door.

"CONGRATULATIONS!" Abby shouted, jumping in the air. "You're Marcella's father, Tony!"

McGee and Ziva still looked stunned, and were talking softly but quickly to each other. Abby was clapping and throwing little pieces of homemade confetti in the air, chanting, "It's a girl, it's a girl, it's a girl!" Marcella looked at the scene in front of her, then back at Tony.

It was the hardest thing Tony had ever done, finally meeting his daughter's eyes.

**Well, there we go. Tony DiNozzo is a father. Where will he go from here? What's his course of action? What does Ziva think? All the answers coming soon!**

**Review, review, review! I love reviews! They make me happy. So. Review. No pressure, though. :D**

**THANK YOUUUU!**


	4. Chapter 4: Rosemary's Baby

Four: Rosemary's Baby

When Tony stepped out of the elevator, two coffees in hand, the office was pretty much empty. The janitor was running a small non-electrical vacuum under the stairs, and Director Vance came around the corner and went up them. Tony couldn't see anyone from Team Gibbs.

Tony headed toward the stairs, trying to ignore the burning of the coffee cups on his hands. He had one large coffee with sugar and cream for him, and a large chocolate specialty for Marcella. Reaching the stop of the stairs, Tony turned and headed toward the conference room.

Carefully shifting Marcella's coffee to his right hand, he opened the door to find Ziva at the table, sitting right across from Marcella. She was writing something on a small scrap of paper, and she didn't even look up when Tony came in. Marcella, however, looked like a deer in headlights, her eyes wide. Tony tried to smile reassuringly, and also tried to repress the urge to punt Ziva out the door with his foot. Did she have to get involved in everything?

But he didn't say anything, just walked over to Marcella and placed her chocolate coffee in front of her. Marcella muttered her thanks, then took a small sip. She was obviously relieved to get the caffeine in her system, and it showed on her face. She sighed.

Wow, maybe she's Gibbs's daughter, Tony thought.

"Ziva," Tony finally said, tapping her on the shoulder incessantly.

"I trust that you wish to keep that finger, so if I were you, I would quit," she said, pushing the piece of paper across the table to Marcella.

Tony growled, but stopped. "Ziva, may I please speak to Marcella alone?"

Normally, Ziva would have shot back a smart-ass comment, but, seeing the look on his face, said, "Of course." She stood from her chair and moved toward the door, then turned around just as Tony was settling down.

"Marcella, you may call that number any time."

Marcella nodded. "Thank you, Agent David."

Ziva smiled at her, threw one last look at Tony, then left, closing the door behind her.

"Okay," said Tony, lifting his coffee to his lips. After taking a long sip, he said, "Let's talk."

"Okay," Marcella said.

"I need to know about your mom, Marcella. Did she ever mention me? I mean, what's the story there? Did this just come up when she was dying."

Marcella shook her head. "No, she'd mentioned the men before she died. She would talk to me about them all the time. But she never told me your names. She just called you One, Two, and Three."

"Which was I?" Tony couldn't help asking.

"You were two," Marcella replied.

Tony nodded. "Go on."

Marcella sighed. "My family was always pressuring her to find out who my father was. She had a really strict Catholic family, and they were always ashamed of me because I was illegitimate. But she never wanted to find out."

"Why?"

Marcella smiled a little. "She said all three of you were equally wonderful, and it would crush her to find out which two weren't my dad," she said. "In fact, as a group, she called you the Dads."

Tony chuckled a little. "Really?"

Marcella laughed, too. "Yeah. But sometimes I would hear her crying in her room. I'd go in, and she would be looking through a scrapbook she made in college. She was looking at pictures of you, Nathan, and Patrick. She'd never tell, but she was curious as to which one of you was my father, and was ashamed of herself for sleeping with all of you."

Tony looked at her. "That must have been rough," he said sympathetically.

Marcella nodded. "It was. Especially towards the end, she was really distracted sometimes. She lost her job at the police department a year ago because she was so distracted. She just stopped living."

Tony's heart ached. He hated hearing about his poor daughter's sad childhood.

"Anyway, she never said so, but I knew that not knowing who my dad was haunted her. Especially since she claimed to be in love with one of you."

"Which one?" Tony asked.

"She never said," Marcella replied, looking down at her fingernails. She always just said, "'Marcie, I was really in love with one of your Dads. I hope that you fall in love someday the way I did.'"

Tony swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. For some reason, he felt like he was about to cry.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Marcella's phone rang. Tony was surprised to hear Frank Sinatra's 'Luck Be a Lady' as her ringtone.

"Hello?" Marcella said, pressing the phone to her ear. "Yes, Grandma, I'm at the library. Yes. Yeah, I'll be home in a minute. Okay. I love you, too. Bye."

Marcella put the phone back in her pocket, then grabbed her across-the-body purse and Manila folder. Standing up, she said, "I have to go. My grandmother doesn't know I'm here."

"Okay," said Tony, standing, too. "Should I…should I call you sometime, or-"

"Um…" Marcella bit her lip. "Would it be okay if I came back next week? I mean, I just feel like…like we should…"

"That's fine," Tony said quickly, eager to put the poor girl out of her misery. "Just drop by anytime."

"Okay," Marcella said, smiling shyly. She picked up her coffee, headed toward the door, then turned around. "Oh, I almost forgot…" She shifted her coffee to the other hand and dug through her purse, finally pulling out a small stack of DVDs in pastel colored sleeves. "I brought these for you. I mean, for my dad, if I found him…I just…here."

Marcella hurried to the table, set the DVDs down, and rushed to the door. She walked out, pulling the door shut, but not before sticking her head in one last time and saying, "By the way, your girlfriend was really nice."

"Who-?" Tony started to say, but Marcella had already closed the door behind her.

Tony watched the door for a moment, then turned back to the DVDs. All of them were written on in bright blue Sharpie. He shuffled through them.

_1 year._

_2 years._

_3 years._

_4 years._

_5 years. _

Tony stared at the stack for a second, then left the conference room, heading down to his desk. Once there, he pulled his desk chair over to the TV and popped the first disk into the DVD player. After a minute or so of stalling, a video finally began to play.

The first thing that Tony saw was a baby, sitting in a highchair, a woman picking white icing out of her dark curly hair. The baby was looking at the woman, presumably her mother, and Tony felt a jolt go through them when both people turned to look at the camera, and he saw Marcella's baby face and the face of her mother, Rosemary Burmont.

"Is that a camera?" Rosemary kept saying. "Seriously, Rebecca, is that a camera?" Even as she said this, Marcella's toothless grin just got bigger and bigger, and before Tony knew it, she was giggling.

"Rebecca, turn the damn camera off!" Rosemary said. Then, looking at her baby, she said, "Oops, turn the _darn _camera off. Beckie, come on!"

"Alright, alright," said the woman behind the camera, and the shot went black. Tony was jumping out of his chair and had his finger on the 'replay' button when another shot opened, and Marcella was sitting in a car seat on a picnic table, a big pink cake in front of her. In it was one candle.

"_Happy birthday to you!_" the party guests were singing as Rosemary kissed and touched her baby. "_Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Marcie! Happy birthday to you!"_

Then everyone cheered, and Rosemary took Marcie's little hands in hers and clapped them together gently, and the baby giggled more loudly than Tony had ever heard a baby giggle. His eyes felt prickly.

The video went on for about ten more minutes, showing Marcella stuffing the cake in her mouth and ripping into a couple of presents. When it was over, Tony didn't wait: he went right to the next video.

An hour later, Tony had seen so much. A two-year-old Marcella trying desperately to take the party hat off of her head. Riding a tricycle around a green yard the next year. Playing with two baby dolls, one boy and one girl, the year after. And finally, he was finishing watching a five-year-old Marcella dancing around a heavily decorate kitchen singing "Luck Be a Lady".

"_Wuck be a wady tonight!_" Marcella yelled more than sang. "_Wuck be a wady tonight!_"

Tony smiled as Marcella waved frantically goodbye to the camera, and finally, the screen went black.

Tony had just seen Marcella's, his _daughter's_, first five birthdays, and he had had no part of them. None. Zip. Nadda. And to Tony's surprise, this gave him the most intense ache he'd felt in a long, long time.

Putting the last DVD back into its green sleeve, Tony stood from his chair and began gathering his things. Tony felt as if he were drunk: nothing seemed a hundred percent clear. But he understood exactly what was going on.

Tony flung his backpack onto the passenger seat of his car and got in, turning the keys in the ignition. Once he was safely out of the naval yard parking lot, he finally quit fighting the lump in his throat and the prickling in his eyes, and let the hot man tears slide freely down his face.

**Whew. That's it for tonight. I wanted to squeeze that out before I go to bed. It's the middle of the night now, and I am going to pay for this tomorrow. :/ Oh, well! I really hope you guys enjoyed this and will keep reading! It's gonna start getting pretty juicy from here on out!**

**Liked this story? Review! Hated it? Review! I love constructive criticism, but please be kind, guys.**

**THANK YOUUUU!**


	5. Chapter 5: Ziva Gets Personal

Chapter Five: Ziva Gets Personal

Tony came to work the next morning with dark circles under his eyes. And not just the purplish-gray circles that are only mildly noticeable, but the purplish-black circles that made him look like he'd been in a fist fight. Tony sure felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

Tony hadn't slept all night long. He'd been thinking of Marcella and her birthday videos. Images of her round face had flashed through his mind all night long, her tinkling giggle, her wide, toothless smile. And those eyes…_his _eyes…

But Tony tried to push Marcella out of his mind as he sat down at his computer desk, flinging his backpack to the ground, and began work on the Worthington case.

Ziva, across the aisle, was busy trying to contact Jackie Worthington, who had never shown up for her appointment the previous day. After getting a busy signal three times, Ziva gave up, slamming the phone down and growling.

When she looked up, she saw Tony, typing away on his computer. Instantly she was curious as to what had happened between him and Marcella the night before. She couldn't imagine how Tony had dealt with his teenage daughter for the first time. But since she couldn't get on the phone with Jackie, she was going to try and find out.

She stood abruptly from her desk and walked across the aisle to Tony's. Putting her hands on his desk, she looked down at him, meeting his eyes.

"How did it go with your daughter after I left, Tony?" she asked, staring him down.

Looking back to his computer screen, Tony said sarcastically, "I seduced her."

Ziva stood up straight, eyebrows furrowed. "That is disgusting. Even for you."

"What do you think we did, Ziva?" Tony said, standing up. He was irritated now. Did she always have to pry? "She talked. I listened. I talked. She listened. She left. The end."

Ziva returned his glare. However, Tony's was so fierce that she looked toward McGee's desk. That didn't happen often. "Were you-were you kind?"

Tony smiled sarcastically. "As a Disney woodland creature."

Ziva uncrossed her arms and slammed them against her sides. "Do not be an ass, Tony! I am inquiring about your meeting for your daughter's sake, not because I am nosy, like you. You have a tendency to be-"

"Be what, Ziva?" Tony cut her off.

"A-a-a smart Alex!"

Tony just looked at her.

Ziva looked back. "Yes, a smart Alex! You know, quite sarcastic and rude and hurtful!"

"Smart _aleck_, Ziva," McGee called.

"Yes!" she said, pointing to McGee. "Yes, whatever, a smart aleck! I worry that you were insensitive to her."

"Oh, yeah," Tony said, rolling his eyes. He walked around his desk and into the aisle. "Yeah, I was insulting and rude to my own daughter. You know, mid-way through she had bored me so much I drug her to a bar and made sure to be drunk before she talked again? Yeah, and after that-"

"What is wrong with you?" Ziva blurted.

"Specific to this moment?" Tony asked loudly. "You and your prying. But I think all the rest of my problems started when I was about ten seconds old, doctor slapped my ass so hard he broke a blood vessel-"

"Tony!" Ziva said.

"-can't tell now, but it still hurts like hell if you poke it-"

"Spend a lot of time poking your ass, DiNozzo?"

Tony turned around just in time to see Gibbs heading in the direction of the stairs. He was gone before Tony could respond.

As soon as Tony turned back to Ziva, she was off again.

"You are horrible," she was saying.

Tony walked closer to Ziva, getting right in her face. "Why don't you trust me when I say that everything went fine with Marcella last night? Why do you care so much about my-?"

"Because I know what it is like to have an ass of a father!" Ziva shouted.

Tony stepped back, feeling a bit like she'd slapped him.

McGee gawked from his desk.

Ziva stood alone.

After a few seconds of silence-and the realization that the entire office had been watching Tony and Ziva's fight-Ziva stepped forward and grabbed Tony's shirt in her fist. She leaned close to him, her nose almost touching his. She stared right into his eyes.

"I know what it is like to have an ass of a father," she repeated in a whisper. "He was self-absorbed, rude, just like you. But," she continued, "unlike you, he wasn't good at heart. And if you are half the man that I know you are, you are perfectly capable of lovingly raising your daughter."

Tony stared at her. "Who said anything about _raising_-?"

Ziva cut him off. "Your nerves get in the way of your kindness," she said. "I was just concerned that you may have been rude and sarcastic toward her. I wanted to make sure that you did not give her a bad impression of her father. I think that she is lucky."

Ziva let go of his shirt, staring into his eyes silently for a moment. Tony noticed that hers were wet.

"But maybe not," Ziva said in her quietest whisper yet. Then, turning on her heel, Ziva headed toward Abby's lab without another word.

**Whoo. Intense.**

**Sorry it took me longer than usual to update. On Monday I lost my beautiful, hilarious cat, Nemo. He was only 8 years old, and I was very surprised and shocked by his death. I haven't been much up to writing for a few days, but my cousin called me and begged me to update soon, so I squeezed this out.**

**Honestly, I'm not sure I love this, but I'm too tired to revise. Thoughts? I hope you guys like it. Even if I don't, you guys usually seem to like my stuff, so I'm thankful for that. **

**Anyway, please review guys.**

**And P.S.-Though it is sappy, I dedicate this story to Nemo, who, as written by , "wrapped his tail around my heart". :')**

**Thank youuuu.**


	6. Chapter 6: Gibbs and Marcella

Chapter Six: Gibbs and Marcella

A week passed, and Tony and Ziva had less interaction during that time than they ever had. Normally they began talking as soon as they met in the bullpen and didn't really stop until they left, unless one of them went out on assignment without the other. But that was rare. Next to the definition of 'partners' in the dictionary, it would have shocked no one in the NCIS building to see a photo of Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David.

That being said, the week after their argument was extremely awkward for everyone on Team Gibbs. Tony and Ziva were both easily agitated and pretty unhelpful when it came to the Worthington case. On the seventh day after the fight, Gibbs finally broke.

"Ziva, did Jackie Worthington ever make it in?" he asked her one morning as he exited the elevator, coffee in hand.

"She did not," Ziva replied, typing away on her keyboard, blindly staring at the screen.

"Well, did you try calling her, Ziva?"

"Tony was supposed to."

Gibbs set his coffee down a little harder than necessary. "Well, did he?" he said, voice a little louder than usual.

"I do not know. Probably not. He is always forgetting these things."

Gibbs sighed and looked up just as Tony stepped out of the elevator. Trying to relax a little, he approached him. Tony finally met his eyes once they were standing by his desk.

"What can I do for you, Boss?" Tony said after a pause.

"Did you ever call Jackie Worthington?" Gibbs asked in his normal tone.

"Jackie Worthington…" Tony mused. When he saw Gibbs's glare, he said quickly, "Um…no, Boss, I didn't."

"Why not, DiNozzo?"

"Uh…" Tony looked around frantically. Spotting McGee, he said, "McGee was supposed to call."

"Call who?" McGee asked quickly, worriedly.

"Jackie Worthington," Tony said, not taking his eyes off of Gibbs.

"The vic's wife?"

"Yes, McOblivious. Did you call?" Tony said through gritted teeth.

"No one asked me to," McGee said.

"You were supposed to call, Tony," Ziva called out irritably from her desk.

"I was not!" "You are Senior Field Agent, Tony," McGee said.

"Yeah, but Ziva usually calls-"

"Alright!" Gibbs yelled. Tony, Ziva, and McGee all snapped to attention, staring at him. Gibbs looked back and forth between Tony and Ziva. "Whatever tiff you two had the other day, you better put it behind you," he said. "We have work to do."

Tony and Ziva averted their eyes.

"Now, do what you have to do," Gibbs said, heading back to his desk. When neither of them moved, he said in a raised voice, "Jackie Worthington. Find her. _Now_."

Tony and Ziva finally got up, gathered their things, and walked towards the elevator. When Gibbs saw them in that second before the doors closed, their eyes were looking in opposite directions.

Gibbs had just sat down at his desk and was starting up his computer when the elevator doors opened again and Marcella walked out, two coffee cups in her hands. She looked toward her father's desk, then, not seeing him, approached McGee, who was typing.

"Um…" she started, looking for his name on his desk. Seeing it, she went on, "Special Agent McGee?"

He looked up. "Oh! Hi, Marcella. What can I do for you?"

"Well, Agent DiNozzo said that I could come in next week to see him. I, uh, brought coffee," she said, holding up the drinks. "Do you know where he is?"

"Um…" McGee looked at Gibbs, but he was cursing at his computer. "Actually, he just left with Agent David to work on our case."

"Oh," said Marcella, looking a bit crestfallen. Her voice, however, hid it well. "Okay, then. I'll just catch up with him later."

Gibbs, by this time, had given up on his computer and was ready to turn to McGee for help. Seeing Marcella, and the look on her face, brought on a feeling in him, a feeling that he had known before, and he couldn't let her go.

"Marcella," he said, and she turned.

"Yes?" she said, trying to smile. Unsuccessfully.

Gibbs stood up. Walking toward her, he extended his hand. "I'm Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, DiNozzo's supervisor."

"Yeah," Marcella said, pumping his hand as hard as she could comfortably muster. "Agent David mentioned you when we talked last week."

"I bet she did," Gibbs said quietly. Spotting the coffees in her hand, he reached for one, saying, "Here, let me take this off your hands."

"Thank you," she said, letting him take it. "Will you make sure that Agent DiNozzo gets it?"

"Sure," he said, smiling that famous Gibbs half-smile. "You can wait for him, if you like, though."

"Oh," she said. "Um, that's alright. But thank you-"

"Conference room's this way," Gibbs said, already heading toward the stairs. Marcella threw a confused look at McGee, who shrugged, and then followed him, her jaw almost dropping when Gibbs put the coffee to his lips and took a long drink.

The two of them finally reached the conference room, and Gibbs let Marcella enter first, shutting the door behind them. She sat in the seat she had the week before, and Gibbs took Tony's seat. He took a big sip of coffee, then, setting it down, began.

"So you're DiNozzo's daughter," he said. It was not a question.

Marcella hesitated, then said, "Yes."

"Talked to him much?"

Marcella nodded. "A little bit. We talked in here last week, when we…found out."

"Are you okay?"

Marcella nodded. "I'm fine. He seems like a nice guy."

Gibbs just looked at her. "I meant because your mother died, Marcella.

"Oh." Marcella looked down, swallowing a lump in her throat. "Yeah. I'm okay." She looked back up at Gibbs, her eyes teary. "I mean, I miss her, but…I'm handling it better than I thought I could."

"People in the situation always do," Gibbs said, not taking his eyes off of hers. "I sure did."

Marcella looked at him, brows furrowed. "You lost…a parent, or a-?"

"I lost my wife and my nine-year-old daughter," he said, picking up his coffee again.

Marcella's eyebrows promptly jumped. "Oh, my God. Agent Gibbs. I am so, so sorry. What-what happened-?"

"Car accident," he said. He looked at his hands.

Marcella nodded, sipping her own coffee. "My mom, too."

"Yeah," Gibbs said softly.

They sat in silence for a minute. Finally, feeling incredibly awkward, Marcella said, "Is there something that you needed, Special Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs looked up. "No. I just was giving you a place to wait for DiNozzo."

Marcella cocked her head to the side. "You need something, don't you?"

Gibbs looked at her, eyebrows raised. "What makes you think that, Marcella?"

Marcella just looked at him. After another silence, she said, "I don't know. Just…a gut feeling, I guess."

Gibbs, looking at her, hearing this, could suddenly not hold back the smile threatening to push its way on to his lips. He smiled as widely as he ever did (which, compared to Tony, was not wide at all) and chuckled softly. "You remind me of my daughter."

Marcella, who had been studying her hands, looked up at him again. "Oh. I, uh…I'm-"

"She would have looked somewhat like you," he said, studying her dark hair and eyebrows, her soft features, her eyes. He leaned back in his chair. "She was beautiful."

Marcella was suddenly shocked to feel hot tears sliding down her cheeks. Putting the back of her hand to her face, she attempted to dry it, but it was no use. The tears just kept coming. And Gibbs just kept watching.

After a minute or so of Marcella silently crying, she spoke in a sad, troubled voice. "I don't know what I'm going to do," she said. "I can't stay with my grandmother…she's sending me to a Catholic school as soon as she can find one she can afford…and Agent DiNozzo…he doesn't like me…my own father…"

She couldn't finish. She broke down into sobs.

Gibbs was affected by this more than he expected he would be. But she reminded him so much of Kelly, and was so beautiful and sweet and kind, he just couldn't sit there and watch her suffer, as he could some people. Walking around the table, he sat down next to her, putting his arm on the back of her chair. He leaned in, his mouth stopping inches from her ear.

"Your father loves you," he whispered.

Marcella turned her head, pulling away a little, and looked into Gibbs's face. After a moment of more silent crying, she whispered, "How do you know?"

Gibbs smiled. He hadn't smiled this much in a long time. "I just know."

He didn't need to tell Marcella that he thought of Tony as a son, that he knew everything about him, that Tony had a heart of gold, and the biggest one Gibbs had ever seen in a person. She just needed to know that her father loved her.

And with that, Gibbs handed her a tissue from his inside pocket, kissed her lightly on the top of her head, and left the conference room without another word, already becoming angry again at the thought of his damn computer.

**Ugh. Not sure I like this either. Am I losing my touch? I sure hope not.**

**Anyway, the next chapter will probably have more Tiva. I hope you like this enough to stay with me.**

**Also, I'm considering doing a crossover of my two favorite shows, House, M.D. and NCIS. However, I want to do something that hasn't been done before. Any ideas? Comment them in your REVIEW. I'll definitely take them into consideration.**

**Thank youuuu.**

**P.S. Review, please! Just in case you didn't notice that I wrote it in all-caps above.**


	7. Chapter 7: Nerves

Chapter Seven: Nerves

Even though the car was jerking back and forth wildly at Ziva's command, Tony said nothing as they sped down the D.C. streets. He figured that Ziva's driving would kill him eventually, anyway. May as well be today.

As much as he hated to admit it, he hated the tension that was between Ziva and he. She really was the closest thing he'd ever had to a best friend.

But he was also angry at her accusing him of being a terrible father. He hadn't known for more than 24 hours when she'd laid into him, and it infuriated him. Not enough to _really _yell at or insult her-he knew he never would be able to really lay into Ziva, no matter what. But still, he resented the accusation that he was a bad father.

"I'm gonna be a great dad, you know," he said, checking his notepad for Jackie Worthington's address again.

Ziva at first said nothing, then replied, "I know."

Tony looked at her, not even wavering when she cut off a large SUV. "Then why'd you make that big scene back at the office?"

Ziva shrugged. "I do not know. I guess I was still a bit…shocked…and all my memories of my father came flooding back, and I was having terrible, terrible fly-backs…"

"Fly-backs?"

Ziva sighed, jerking the wheel to the right. "Yes, Tony." He just stared. Sighing exasperatedly, she said, "You know, when you relive in your mind a moment that has already happened? A fly-back?"

Tony smiled a little. Her little errors were cute. "Flashback, Ziva."

"Whatever!" she said, honking the horn as the driver of the SUV made an extremely rude gesture.

"Anyway," she continued, as Tony looked back to make sure that the driver wasn't pulling out a gun or something, "I was still surprised, as I said, and my nerves and feelings got in the way. I am sorry, Tony."

He looked out his window, furrowing his brows. "It's okay, Ziva." Then, a moment later, "Do you really think I'll be a good dad?"

Ziva chuckled. "If you stop bar-hopping and behaving like a man-horse, yes."

"Ziva, it's a man-"

He was cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing.

"DiNozzo," he said as he put it to his ear.

Ziva glanced at him as he listened to the person on the other end.

"Okay. Thanks." Tony snapped his cell phone shut.

"Who was that?" Ziva asked.

Tony sighed. "That was McGee, Ziva. Police called. They found Jackie Worthington."

"Where is she?" Ziva asked, pulling into another lane.

"The middle of nowhere. She's dead."

**Sorry this is short, but it's almost two a.m., and I'm really behind on sleep. But I promised Strawberry Shortcake123 she'd find a chapter when she woke up. Don't worry, I'm going somewhere with the Tiva, and the murders, and everything. Not sure where, but I'm going somewhere!**

**R and R, please and thank you!**


	8. Chapter 8: You Will Handle This

Chapter 8: You Will Handle This

It took more than two hours for Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, McGee, Palmer, and Ducky to get to Jackie Worthington's body, collect evidence, and get back to the naval yard. It was almost eight o'clock when they returned, and just beginning to get dark.

"I'll run this stuff down to Abby," said McGee when they stepped out of the elevator, cutting through the bullpen and making his way down to the lab, evidence in hand. Gibbs moved in the direction of Director Vance's office, and Tony and Ziva went to their respective desks.

When Tony reached his desk, he was surprised to see a Starbucks cup on his desk, a note underneath it. Removing the coffee, he picked up the note, scanning it.

_Special Agent DiNozzo,_

_You were gone when I dropped in. I'll catch you later. Good luck on whatever it is you're working on._

_Marcella_

Tony, though somewhat surprised that she had shown up at all-she had seemed so unsure as she left last week-was even more troubled by the fact that she addressed him as "Special Agent DiNozzo". He was her father, for Pete's sake-shouldn't she at least call him Tony, for now? Tony was still pondering this as he put the coffee lid to his lips.

"_Pthpthpthpthpthpthhh!_" Tony sputtered as he blew the coffee out of his mouth, gagging.

Ziva jumped a little, glaring at him. "Tony! What in the hell is the matter?"

"Cold coffee," Tony said, pointing to the cup.

"So?"

"_So_?" Tony said. "Cold coffee is _disgusting, _Ziva. What planet were you raised on?"

"Clearly the farthest one from you," she replied quietly.

Gibbs came back down the stairs then, disheveled, as usual, from his report with Director Vance.

"The damn thing's half full! I wonder if she-"

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs said, louder than usual.

"Yes, sir?" Tony said quickly, snapping the lid back on the cup and turning to face his boss.

"Director Vance is disappointed on how little information my team has on the Worthington case."

"Boss, we have three Manila folders full," Tony said, bending down over his desk. "Here's his personal records and background check, here's his family history, here's his-"

"DiNozzo, I need more," Gibbs said.

"I-" Tony was very confused. He thought he'd been keeping up with his job well. He tried his absolute hardest to make sure nothing came before his work.

Gibbs leaned in and lowered his voice. "You're fine, DiNozzo. Vance is attending a press conference soon and wants this to be resolved by then."

"Oh," Tony said, nodding.

"Also, his office door's open," Gibbs added, smiling a little. "Had to yell a little."

"Ah," DiNozzo said, smiling.

Gibbs half-smiled, then headed toward the elevators. Tony and Ziva began gathering their things, ready to follow.

"You two stay here. Get more info," Gibbs shouted back at them.

Tony looked up, confused. "But, Boss-"

Gibbs was gone.

"Tony, it is two in the morning. I think we have exhausted all of our resources for the night."

"Ziva," Tony said, pressing a button on the TV remote, "the boss wants more info."

"He does not, the director does!"

"Your point, Agent David?"

"The director left three hours ago, Tony!"

Tony turned to Ziva. "Do you value your ass, Miss David?"

Ziva just looked at him. "_What_-?"

"Because I do," Tony said. "And I would like to keep mine. Which is why I am here, in the middle of the night, working on this case."

Ziva sighed. Tony turned back to the screen, and after a few seconds, she threw her hands up. "This is ridiculous! I am going home!"

"Fine," Tony said.

Ziva began to gather her things, clearly frustrated. However, when she looked back at Tony, and the stony way he was standing, the way he was not shifting his weight playfully from one foot to the other as he usually did, she felt an ache in her chest, and knew she had to stay. As much as Tony annoyed her, she couldn't bear to leave him alone now…she knew he had a lot to worry about, more than he probably ever had. So far, fatherhood was not treating him well.

"Did the neighbors notice anything suspicious going on around the house in the days before Corporal Worthington's death?" she said, dropping her bag and walking back to him.

Tony, glancing at her once out of the corner of his eye, said, "They said they didn't, but their neighbors on the right seemed awfully jumpy when McGoo and I interviewed him on Thursday. We're planning on going back there to-"

_Ring. Ring. _Tony jumped as the phone on the desk began ringing. Walking right up to it, he yanked it up to his ear and said, "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

"Tony!" Abby screamed in his ear, so loudly that Ziva could hear her. "Come down here!" "Got something, Abs?" Tony said, smirking.

"You know I hate it when you do that, Tony! Of course I have something, or else I wouldn't have called! I swear, you just go out of your way to annoy me. In fact, I think I'll ask Gibbs to-"

"Be down in a sec, Abs," Tony said, hanging up. Motioning to Ziva with his index finger, he headed out of the bullpen, and they began walking toward Abby's lab.

"What was that all about, Tony?" Ziva asked as they walked.

"You know how sensitive Abby is," Tony said, smiling out of fondness for her.

Ziva chuckled. "Yes."

When Ziva and Tony stepped into Abby's lab, they were affronted by the sound of synthesizers, guitars, drums. Just another night in the Abby Lab. However, Abby was nowhere in sight.

"Abby!" Tony shouted, walking to her computer. "Abs!"

"Abby," Ziva called, softer.

"Haven't you learned anything in your six years here, David?" Tony asked. "You have to yell in here!"

"ABBY!"

Tony cringed. "Good job," he said, though he grimaced as he gave her a thumbs-up.

"Abby!" they both called, a few more times.

"I can call louder, if you wish, DiNozzo," Ziva finally said.

"No. Ziva, please-"

"ABBY!"

"Tim!"

Ziva and Tony jerked their heads in the direction of Abby's office, where they hadn't seen her slumped over her desk, clutching Bert.

"Tim?" Tony mused, as Ziva walked over to where Abby was regaining her balance.

"Are you okay?" Ziva asked, helping to steady Abby.

"Yeah," Abby said, shaking her head. Her pigtails flapped wildly. "Fine. Just needed a little cat nap."

"Tim?" Tony said again, as Abby turned down her music with a remote.

"Yeah. Sorry. Having a dream. Been…reminiscing a lot lately."

"Reminiscing?" Then, gagging as he remembered Abby and McGee's past, he followed Ziva and Abby to the main computer.

"What did you find, Abby?" Ziva asked, rubbing her hand across her eyes. "Okay," Abby said. "It isn't much, but it'll help you narrow your search." Abby tapped a few keys, and a picture of a knife came up on the screen. "Do you know what this is?"

"Um…a knife?" Tony said sarcastically, still fighting to work the picture of Abby and McGee out of his head.

"Not just _any _knife, Tony," Abby said. Pointing to the picture, she turned to them and said, "This is a Water Slicer. It's a knife that is given only to Marines. It just came out this past June."

"Do we know of any Marines who carry that knife?" Ziva asked.

"Well…no," Abby said reluctantly. As Ziva's shoulders sagged a bit, she added, "But…these are just testers. They were given only to one specific regiment of the Marines."

"Worthington's regiment?" Tony asked.

"Correct!" Abby said, pointing at him.

"Good job, Abs," Tony said, and headed back upstairs.

"Thanks, Tony!" Abby called, turning back to her laptop. "You know, I really wish you guys were Gibbs. I could really use a Caf-Pow right now. Gee, I wonder if a certain ex-Mossad would go get me a-?"

Abby turned. Ziva had gone upstairs, too.

Now lonely, Abby went back to her office in search of Bert.

"Are you going home, Tony?" Ziva asked when she caught up with him.

"Gotta finish up some paperwork," Tony said.

"Tony, it is…" Ziva looked at her watch. "Two-thirty a.m.! You have to get some sleep!"

"I'm fine, Ziva." Tony smirked. "I'm used to late nights."

Ziva tried not to gag. "You are a disgusting, chauvinist beast."

"Thanks," Tony said flatly, sitting down at his desk.

Ziva watched him for a moment. Tony, though she hated to admit it, was amazing at paperwork. Even better than she. So she knew for sure now that something was wrong when he couldn't even put the tip of his pen on the paper. Sure enough, he soon dropped the pen and put his hand over his eyes.

"God," he whispered.

"Tony."

"Ziva, what am I going to do?"

She just looked at him, knowing that he was referring to the Marcella situation. After a moment, she said, "Well…you are…you are going to…"

"Exactly, Ziva," Tony said, jerking his head to look up at her. "There's no easy answer. I have missed the first sixteen years of my daughter's life. I don't know what I _can _do."

She walked closer, putting her hands on his desk. Her face was close to his.

"Listen, Tony," she whispered. "I do not know how this will work out. But whatever happens…you will handle it the way you handle most hard personal situations."

Tony just stared. "And how's that?"

Ziva sighed. "You will feel bad for awhile…then you will come back to work, make an irreverent joke about a woman-or McGee-and life will go on."

Tony sighed. "I don't know if I can go on if this ends badly, Ziva. She's my daughter."

Ziva put her fingers under his chin, tilted his face up so that he was staring into her eyes, and said, "Then do not let it end badly."

Tony was about to respond when, suddenly, Ziva put her hands on either side of his head, stood up a bit straighter, and kissed him on his forehead. Then, grabbing her bag and jacket from behind her desk, she walked to the elevator, stepped in, and was gone.

**Oooh! A kiss! **

**I felt like at 10,000+ words in that a kiss would be appropriate. I tried to make it realistic. I think that, in serious situations like this one, it's in character for Ziva to kiss him somewhere other than on the lips (remember: "You have always had my back..."). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed, and it's only getting juicier from here on out.**

**Anyway, if you liked it, please review. If you hated it, please review. If you're on the fence about it, please review. If you're a three-eyed purple chicken, please review. And don't review about that previous comment.**

**Love you all! **

**-Beckie**


	9. Chapter 9: Collapsed

Chapter Nine: Collapsed

Marcella stepped out of the elevator early on Monday morning, two coffees in her hands. She'd missed her dad last week, it was true, but she was determined to see him today. There were definitely some things they needed to work out.

It was 7:15, and the only person in the bullpen was Special Agent McGee. Though he seemed immersed in his paperwork, as soon as Marcella was in his peripherals he looked up at her, smiled, and waved.

"How are you, Marcella?" he asked, going back to his paperwork.

"I'm okay," Marcella said, nodding. McGee glanced over and smiled, and Marcella looked around, feeling a little out of place.

Noticing this, McGee's eyes met hers and he said, "You know, you can sit down, Marcella."

"Oh," she said quietly, looking around the bullpen. "Um…?"

"Here." McGee got up, grabbed Tony's chair, and rolled it over to his desk. Then, sitting back down in his own chair, he gestured to it, smiling.

Marcella smiled shyly. "Thank you, Special Agent McGee."

McGee watched her as she sat down. She looked so nervous, so sweet, and _so _much like Tony. After a moment, he said, "You can call me Tim."

Marcella looked up at him.

"I mean, if you want to!" McGee said, holding up his hands. "No pressure or anything."

Marcella smiled, amused by how hard he was trying to make her feel comfortable. "Thank you, Tim."

McGee smiled at her, then went back to his paperwork.

Gibbs was the next to arrive. Marcella noticed that, though it was Monday, Gibbs didn't look tired at all. He had his usual look of indifference on his face, and, not surprisingly, a tall cup of coffee in his hand.

"Morning, Boss," McGee said, looking up at him.

"McGee," Gibbs said, settling down at his desk. Then, looking at her, "Hi, Marcella." He flashed his trademark half-smile.

Marcella felt herself blush. There was something about Gibbs that made her feel extremely nervous, but at the same time, incredibly comfortable. "Hi, Special Agent Gibbs."

"Just Gibbs," he replied, still smiling.

McGee grinned a little.

Marcella smiled. "Thanks," she said softly.

The elevator doors opened, and Jimmy Palmer and Ziva stepped out, appearing to be immersed in conversation. They said their goodbyes at the entrance to the bullpen, and Ziva walked to her desk, dropping her backpack to the floor.

"Good morning, Ziva," McGee said as he typed.

"Good morning, McGee," Ziva said, smiling at him. Then, looking over at Gibbs, "Good morning, Gibbs."

"Morning, Ziva," he said, looking from a piece of paper to his computer screen. Then, eyebrows furrowing, his face turned an odd shade of red and he banged the top of the monitor, muttering, "Son of a-"

"I got it, Boss!" McGee interjected loudly, jumping up and running to Gibbs' aid.

Marcella laughed softly, and just watched these three people. She had never expected a federal team of agents to be quite so…like a family. She watched as McGee typed away on Gibbs' keyboard, and smiled a little at the frustrated expression on Gibbs' face. Ziva, at her desk, was concentrating on text messaging someone, and Marcella was struck by how pretty she was. She couldn't help but think how lucky her dad was to have her.

But then again, from what Ziva had said that first night in the conference room, Marcella would be lucky to have _him._

Just as Marcella thought this, the elevator doors slid open, and a disgruntled-looking Tony stepped out onto the floor. Marcella watched him as he headed to his desk, hair in a tangle, button-down open to reveal his white undershirt, and his jacket over his arm. Marcella noticed that he didn't even notice his chair was gone…

"Wait, Agent DiNozzo!" she shouted as he began to sit, but it was too late. Tony hit the floor, his foot loudly banging the underside of the desk, and everyone within a twenty foot radius looked up. Marcella just stared, mouth open, as Tony looked dazedly around, his eyes finally connecting with hers.

"Cripes!" he said, jumping to his feet. He frantically buttoned his shirt as Marcella stood, his face turning red. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here!" he said, trying to smooth his hair down. "I really-I'm so-"

"It's fine," Marcella said, leaning over to pick up his jacket from the floor. Holding it out to him, Marcella kept eye contact with him, and tried hard not to look as nervous-and sick-as she felt.

"Thanks," Tony said, taking the jacket and putting it on. "What are you-"

"I, uh, missed you the last time I came," Marcella interjected. "I just…you said I could come by…"

"Yeah," Tony said, his voice back to its normal pitch now. "Of course you can. Uh…how about we go to the conference room?"

"Okay," Marcella said, picking her purse up from the floor. Tony stood aside as she passed, turning back one last time to say, "It was good to see you guys."

"You, too, Marcella," McGee said, looking anxiously at Tony.

"Come by anytime, Marcie," Gibbs said, not looking away from his computer screen. However, Marcella noted that he was smiling.

Tony glared at McGee as they left the bullpen, knowing from McGee's expression that he'd had a part in moving the chair. He'd get him back later.

Tony followed Marcella to the conference room. Once there, Marcella immediately went in and sat down, looking down at her cell phone. Tony watched her as he shut the door, and was saddened that he had missed all of her, his beautiful daughter's, life so far. It was an almost unbearable pain.

Putting on a brave face, Tony sat down across from her, smiling as he usually did. Seeing that she was still using her phone, he asked, "Who are you texting? Your boyfriend?" He was surprised to feel a little ill at the thought of her having a boyfriend.

"No," Marcella said, and Tony felt a little relieved. "Just my friend Raegan."

"Oh," Tony said. Looking for something to relate to her with, he began, "How long have you two been-?"

"Um, Agent DiNozzo?" Marcella interrupted. Tony looked at her, and she continued, "I kind of came to talk about some important stuff. Is that okay?"

"Sure," Tony said, feeling his heartbeat speed up a little bit.

"Um…" Marcella wasn't sure where to start. She knew that he was probably still in shock from all of this, but there was a lot she needed to know. She decided to come straight out with it. "Agent DiNozzo…I kind of want to talk about…a custody agreement."

Tony's heartbeats quickened again, and he suddenly felt very hot. He remembered how he'd collapsed on Friday, felt like giving up on this, and how he'd wallowed in self-pity all weekend. He remember how Ziva had tried to make him feel better, and how, in any other situation, it would've worked.

He looked straight into his daughter's eyes-his eyes. The thought of everything he'd missed crossed his mind again, and he felt like he might cry. But at the same time, he knew that Marcella was depending on him, at least for this-a response. An answer. And though he'd collapsed, it was time to get back on his feet.

Taking a deep breath, Tony said, "Okay."

**Happy Birthday, Anne! I hope you like it! -Beckie**

**I hope everyone else likes it, too. I'm feeling super conflicted on this chapter, so let me know what you think. Constructive criticism only, please-no flaming!**

**Thank you! R 'n' R!**


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